Metal Gear Christmas: A tale of yuletide carnage
by maximum226
Summary: CH 3 UP. Thank you so much to those who reviewed! evil drug dealers, dumb SWAT guys, mental patients, submachineguns, and massive Diarrhea. All home for the holidays. Snake's Christmas misfortune continues! Please read and review.
1. Shopping Hell

This is a holiday story that I decided to write for fun. I hope you all can get into the Christmas spirit and have a joyous holiday season. Please review and merry Christmas.

Author's note: Yes, I know it is after Christmas, but we have been having internet problems and I have been unable to submit, so keep in the spirit.

Disclaimer: Any characters, organizations or other elements appearing in the games do not belong to me. Also, all animes mentioned do not belong to me; neither do their story elements, characters, or products. I have not received permission from nor do I own any of the fast food chains or other products mentioned and I do not believe that _all _of them cause violent diarrhea in plump police officers in festive red sweaters. But most of them do.

Chapter 1: Shopping hell

Snake gazed woefully into his mostly vacant wallet, the reverberant buzz of the other last-minute mall patrons ringing in his ears already. His eyes slowly lifted to the colorful cornucopia that was the Suncoast anime selection.

_Well Hal, here I am, now I just have to figure out why the hell a man in his thirties would pay 27.99 for four episodes of a show called "Cowboy Bebop"._

"Can I help you with anything thir?" Snake heard a voice say overly close behind him, causing him to shiver as warm spittle sprinkled the back of his neck like fresh snow.

"I highly recommend the "Neon Genesis Evangelion" theries for the theasoned anime fan, or if you're in the mood for a zany romp through the love affairth of a conveniently plathed nerd and several busthty babeth "Love Hina" is a perfect choith…."

Snake slowly turned to face the spitting assaulter, Scott (nametag), and gave him his best icy stare, the one that had froze terrorists in their tracks, met the eyes of his evil clone brother, and watched coolly as the House-sized nuclear-armed walking-tank Metal Gear aimed it's gauss guns at his face.

"Inuyathha! The thpectacularly thuccethful thtory of a half-demon and hith schoolgirl pal that thearch for the thhardth of…."

No effect! Impossible! Snake looked past Scott's prominent glasses and thick eyelids to see his blank, glazed-over eyes. He was totally gone, lost in his own fanboy ramble.

"Can't forget FLCL, or Fooly Cooly, or Furi Kuri, a real trip, hard to follow, but the animation thtunth you with its beauty! And…"

Snake edged to the left, Scott countered with a sidestep as well.

"Cowboy Bebop! An action thci-fi story of two bounty hunterth, a hacker, and one theriouthly hot gambler chick who'th almotht topleth in the movie and me and Kevin went through frame by frame and we think we thaw part of her nipple thith one time and…"

_Cowboy Bebop? That's the one Hal wanted!_

"Or maybe it's one of thoth animeth that they jutht don't draw the nipple and the boobth are just these huge flethy water baloonth but it's thtill pretty hot cuz they thtill bounce around and thtuff like real boobth…"

Snake interrupted, waiting for when Scott took a breath to slip in his sentence, "Cowboy Bebop, give me that one."

Scott faltered for a moment, thrown off by the customer's sudden intervention.

"Oh… thure," He said and grabbed the volume snake indicated.

Sergeant Bentley bit noisily into a food court McDonald's cheeseburger, chewing heartily on the rubber-like substance that had at one point, supposedly, been beef.

_Goddamn pickles._

He thought, grimacing as he plucked one from between his large teeth. He picked up his napkin and wiped some stray cheese stuck in his peppered beard. From behind his dark glasses he watched as the man in the white suit with the silver suitcase sat down at one of the sticky booths with two other men. He pulled back the sleeve of his festive red sweater his wife had knitted him to reveal a silver watch. 10:00 a.m. The transaction was at eleven; he had time…

For some fries.

"No, I really _really _don't want it, thanks anyway Scott," Snake said, waving his left hand in front of him.

"But it cometh free with the purchath of over 24.99!" Scott insisted holding forth the official Star Trek insignia badge/short range walkie-talkie, then added, his eyes widening, "How do you know my name??"

"Just give me the movie and I'll be on my way," Snake growled, resisting the urge to draw the SOCOM at his hip and let Scott know it was time to thut….er shut up and let him leave.

"Are you… are you psychic? Oh man, I knew you guyth were real, I thought you looked like one over there in the corner with your big black trenth coat and mullet and the funky bandanna oh man I jutht knew it wath true! I mean I read in thith one…."

"Scott?"

"And the guyth head exthploded! Jutht like that! I mean, you can't do that can you? Cuz that would be wicked-awethome!"

"SCOTT."

"Yeth?"

"Nametag, now ring me up."

"Name wha- oh… of courthe, here you go thir, enjoy your product," Scott said, pinning the insignia on Snake's trench coat.

"Thanks," Snake said, forking over the money and walking out.

_Finally, shopping's all done, beam me up Scotty._

Snake took a bite of his Christmas Eve dinner and winced. Overcooked orange chicken and soggy rice was not exactly his idea of a nice holiday meal, but he had to go with what he could afford, which at this point, was about nil. He was about to take another painful bite when a fat white man in a nice, festive red sweater ran past him, his gratuitous gut connecting with Snake's back and knocking the heavily-sauced hunk of "chicken" into his lap.

"S'cuse me," The man grunted as he passed and then waddled his way toward the restroom. That was the last straw. As you can imagine, being the leader of an anti-metal gear terrorist organization is noble and exciting, but the pay is rather… modest. Snake and Hal scraped enough together to keep themselves going and pay the bills, but they had only the necessary. The Christmas season didn't make it easy. Snake had been hording up his cigarette money for a present for Hal, a feat that had been about as easy and comfortable as putting up Christmas lights at four below in boxers (a feat which Snake had also achieved after a considerably large amount of eggnog). Secondly, he had run out of dry-cleaning money for the month, so clothes went unwashed. Plus, he didn't have that many pairs of pants, these were his warmest, and now they had a bright orange stain to the left of the groin courtesy of mister festively dressed fat guy with diarrhea.

_Jesus Christ…Jesus Christ…Yeah Jesus Christ! Why the hell do I have to buy a bunch of useless shit because God knocked up some poor guy's wife and you got born in a barn?? Dammit, dammit to hell with this, to hell with Christmas, and to hell with you!_

Snake stood up and grabbed several napkins. He then proceeded to attempt to scrape the coagulated orange sludge from his groin.

"Eww! mommy look!" a little boy yelled and pointed at Snake, who now appeared to be rigorously rubbing himself behind his trench coat.

Sergeant Bentley clenched painfully as the endless loop of _Santa Claus is comin' to town _whispered through the men's restroom and what felt to be Campbell's extra-hearty vegetable soup erupted noisily from his rear. He groaned and burped loudly. And, as his sizeable buttocks prepared for the second wave, he immediately regretted putting taco bell fire sauce and zesty nacho "cheese" on his McDonald's French fries after those three hamburgers.

_I can't believe she maced me._ Snake thought, staggering semi-blindly into the men's restroom where, judging by the sounds, there was a rabid badger in the third stall. Snake disregarded the disturbing roars and splatters that mingled with the repeating cheery singing of the British boy's chorus addition of _Santa Claus is comin' to town_ and splashed some cool water in his eyes from the sink. It was mildly refreshing, but he burn and blurriness remained. Snake reached for a refreshing cigarette that would wind him down. He didn't have any; of course, his cigarettes were now a _Cowboy Bebop _DVD, which he doubted would have the same relaxing effect if smoked. Snake tipped his head back and tried to listen to the music when a surprisingly loud fart followed by Mr. Festive's yell of "Oh shit!" interrupted him.

_Indeed. _Thought Snake.

Bentley had pulled back his sleeve again after a several wipes to see the time on his nice silver watch. 11:03.

"Oh shit!"

_I missed the transaction! Oh God! I've got to call the team in!_

Outside, Dick's radio hissed to life,

"Dick? Dick?" said the panicked voice of Sergeant Bentley.

"Yes sir?" the heavily armored SWAT member replied.

"I've missed the transaction due to… complications (at this point a loud, somewhat juicy fart was powerfully audible over the radio) and you guys need to make the arrest."

"Have you identified the suspects?"

"Negative (plunk) oh… God, look, just arrest who looks scared or suspicious when you guys bust in."

"Roger."

"All right, I'll accompany you when I can. (bbbblllt) Ah, Jesus Christ…"

Dick turned to the four other members of the team.

"Team! Arm up! Everyone affirmative?"

"Yes sir!" said Johnson.

"Affirmative!" said Peter.

"Armed and ready!" said Frank.

"Let's rock n' roll!" yelled Mark (he didn't fit in).

"God Mark, you're such a fag, (faking retardation or homosexuality, or a combination of the two) Urrrr let'th wock and woll boyth!!" mocked Johnson, his performance quickly followed by the laughter of the other members of the team as they grabbed their assault rifles.

_Suspect? Arrest? _Snake thought as he heard the radio conversation from the increasingly pungent stall.

"What's going on?" Snake asked the thin plastic door from a safe distance.

"Huh? Who's there?" grunted sergeant Bentley.

"I can help, what's going on? Who's getting arrested?"

"You were eavesdropping on a confidential FBI radio conversation?"

"Uh…. Look, I just want to help, we can discuss the particulars later."

"Freeze!"

"…….." Snake waited, staring at the closed stall door.

"……."

"……"

"…….."

"Well? Are you coming out?"

"Hang on, piece of toilet paper's stuck in my ass."

"Ah, don't you think it's time for a courtesy flush?"

"Yeah, probably, but when I get out of here your under arrest!"(flush)

"Well, I….."

But Snake was interrupted as the rhythmic thudding of machinegun fire erupted from the food court.

Author's note: Yeah, I know it's kind of stupid, but I wanted to write a holiday fic and it's my first attempt at humor. Please review, flame if you must, still, I know it's kind of dumb so you don't need to scream it in my face; constructive criticism and other comments though, are greatly appreciated.


	2. Jingle Bells, Bullet Shells

Thank you very much to those who reviewed, continuing internet problems (severed cable going down in neighbor's driveway) have prevented me from submitting until this point. Please continue to read and review and keep in the Christmas spirit.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or other elements appearing in the games. I also am not the owner nor have I received permission from any of the mall stores (Suncoast, Dillards, Subway, etc.) that are mentioned in this story. Although, had I asked, who would have cared anyway?

Chapter 2: Jingle bells, bullet shells

Hugh strode quickly away, the silver suitcase bobbing in his darkish, hairy hand with every step.

_Today you die Keef. _He thought, his rough, scarred face crinkling into what was supposedly a smile. Vincent would be pleased. What he was unaware of, however, was that the case he was carrying was not full of cocaine. Inside, nestled among a few white bags of the good stuff, there was a bomb powerful enough to level the entire mall.

MMM

"But sir, what if he opens it before he gets back to Vince?" One of Keef's burly henchmen asked.

"Don't worry, he's not that stupid. Anyway, he'd have to pry it open if he wanted to because only I and Vince know the code lock," Keef replied, drawing a cigarette from his white suit jacket pocket and lighting it.

"So Vince has to be the one to open it?" The henchman said, his beady eyes lighting up.

"That's the idea ya dumbass," Keef said, taking a drag.

"Jeez, you don't have to call me names," The henchman said, looking down at his shoes. Keef ignored the complaint of his crony, his mind preoccupied with the drug war he was starting by eliminating Vincent. What he didn't know was that Vince wanted him dead as well, and his squads of mercenaries were moving in.

EEE

"This is Phoenix, Leviathan, do you copy?" Melvin said into his vest-mounted radio.

"Affirmative, Scorpion unit is in position, you guys ready?" Percible responded into his.

"Affirmative, Red Falcon unit is in position."

"Red Falcon?"

"Yeah, Red Falcon."

"_Red _Falcon?"

"That's what I said."

"No way, you definitely can not do that."

"What?"

"Change your team's name!"

"I didn't."

"Oh hell yes you did! You just used to be Falcon unit, there was no red involved, I distinctly remember!"

"Oh well, no big deal, even though now it's way cooler than your unit's name."

"Oh! Oh! Ok, now my unit is _Black _Scorpion unit!"

"Well, fine!"

"Fine!" Percible added finally and clicked off his radio. He and the Black Scorpion unit were ducked behind the counter of the closed food court Subway. Each of his fifteen men (it was a tight fit, behind that counter) had urban camouflage jumpsuits, Kevlar vests, Kevlar helmets, balaclava, and HK Mp5 submachine guns. Melvin(Phoenix)'s unit was waiting just outside the food court front entrance that led to the parking lot in three black vans. Percible's cell phone rang the high-pitched beep rendition of _Have a Holly Jolly Christmas_.

"Leviathan," He answered loudly and officially.

"Levia- what?" Hugh asked.

" It's percible," Percible mumbled.

"Who?" Hugh asked again, sounding irritated.

"Percible," Percible said, cupping his hand over the radio.

"Just tell me who the hell I'm talking to!!" Hugh yelled angrily.

"Percible! It… It's Percible," Percible replied, followed by the snickers of a few of his men. _I hate my name…_

"Oh, ok, well, move in, I have the case."

"Roger that, ok men! Let's move!"

"Ha ha, did you here that? His name's percible!" one of the mercs snickered.

TTT

Keef extinguished his cigarette on the bright red plastic table.

_Hell, it's my mall, I'll extinguish my cigarettes wherever I damn well please._ He thought, turning toward the exit.

_Oh shit. _He saw Red Falcon unit pouring out of their vans and training their Mp5's on him through the huge glass windows and automatic sliding doors. He turned around to flee back into the mall and saw Black Scorpion rising from behind the Subway counter, but they were not holding the well-priced freshly-made-right-before-your-eyes sub sandwiches that lost Jared those 937 pounds, but were armed with machineguns as well.

So then, Keef did what we all would do when faced with certain death by squad of mercenaries. He screamed like a little girl and hit the dirt.

AAA

Most last-minute shoppers, to an extent, are prepared for a bad day and a reasonable amount of shopping stress. It kind of comes with the package. However, very few of them are prepared for more than an unfindable gift, or that irritating lady who counts out her change one cent at a time. They are not at all ready for a stream of 9mm bullets to burst through the front window of the mall in a spray of glass and saw their nice red plastic table in half, interrupting a deserved mid-shopping stress-relieving lunch of veggie wraps and diet coke in a rather rude manner. This, rather unfortunately, is exactly what happened to Bethany.

Bethany dived toward the ground, her right side crunching on shattered glass and the rhythmic thud of the Mp5's drowning out the screams of her fellow unprepared shoppers. She lunged for her purse, feeling her heart pulse faster already and her vision beginning to redden. She thrust her hand inside and riffled through the contents for her pills. She retrieved the vibrant orange bottle and downed two of the pills, clenching her braced teeth as they slid down her throat. She felt relieved, a feeling that was soon interrupted by the realization that there were men firing machineguns wildly throughout the food court.

LLL

"Do you here something?" Frank asked the other SWAT members as they marched through Dillards.

"Yeah, sounds kind of like about thirty machineguns going off and a tumult of horrified screams from the fleeing shoppers," said Johnson, lifting a hand dramatically to his chin in a Sherlock Holmes-esque expression of thought.

"Maybe," Dick said, his brow furrowed, "the drug deal went sour and the guys are having an all-out firefight!"

"Perhaps…" said Johnson, stroking his chin dramatically.

"Let's call Bentley and find out what to do," Peter suggested.

"Or we could Flash-bang the food court, it would temporarily blind some shoppers, but it could give us a chance to strike on the drug dealers! Then we could establish cover and take out some primary targets with precision from long range before going in for the full-on assault! It could work guys, and we could save a lot of lives."

"Oh shut up Mark."

"Jesus, you're such a dumbass."

GGG

"What's going on?? What's going on??" Bentley frantically screamed from his porcelain pedestal.

"Sounds like whoever you guys were planning to arrest is putting up a fight," Snake said, his SOCOM already in his hand by reflex as soon as he heard gunfire, "I'm going out to see if I can save some shoppers, hold here."

"Like hell you are!" Bentley yelled, "First I have to arrest you!"

"Later," said Snake, "Are the SWAT guys coming?"

"Oh, yeah, I should probably tell them what's going on."

"Yeah, probably," Snake said before opening the bathroom door a crack. He saw a crowd of fleeing people and the muzzle flashes of about thirty submachine guns. He squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of one of the gunmen through the mass of fleeing people. His eyes still burned from the mace, and his vision was a little blurred, this would be tough. He slid out, closing the door silently behind him and began to army-crawl across the smooth floor toward the war zone that had once been a food court.

EEE

Bentley's radio hissed to life down at his belt buckle, and he grunted uncomfortably as her bent off of the toilet to retrieve it.

"Bentley," he answered.

"Sir, it's Dick, we hear what appears to be machinegun fire from the direction of the food court, do you want us to move in?"

"No, seal off the building, I'm unsure of Keef's whereabouts and we need him alive to find Vincent. Call in backup and cover every exit."

"Affirmative, Sir, will you meet us at Dillards to pull out?"

"Yeah, sure," Bentley said, beginning to stand when his bowels violently shifted, "Oh… uh… actually my position is still……. Compromised. You guys go and do what I told ya."

"Affirmative, all right boys! We're outta here! And Frank, leave those perfume samplers alone!"

AAA

Keef looked up.

_Whoa, I'm not dead. _He thought from beneath the overturned plastic table. He turned to see his henchmen were not as fortunate as him.

_Oh well, they were dumbasses anyway._ He thought, staining his white suit as he crawled through a puddle of diet coke and toward the exit of the food court.

RRR

Bethany waited as the heavy military boots of the Red Falcon unit thudded by her as they stormed into the mall. She was glad she had her pills; she knew things went bad if she didn't have her pills. One time, before Dr. Kevin increased her prescription to "rhinoceros portions" (his words), she had nearly killed an entire troupe of mimes with their own berets because they kept putting her in an invisible box. Oh yeah, things had been better since she got her pills, no more lawsuits, tranquilizer darts, muzzles, new cars. Life was better now; it would all turn out ok.

Bethany got to her knees and looked for her purse. She found it quickly, under the table, and on the chair, and on that dead guy, and on the floor, and generally shredded across the food court. Her pills were in there.

_Oh fuck._ She thought.

Author's note: Thank you so much to those who reviewed! I hope you enjoyed this segment and I plan to write more unless I receive a lot of negative feedback. Also, I have another story, it's called Lost Destiny. It's a serious story that I've postponed writing so I can get this one in while the holiday is still fresh. However, it is my real work of art that I really worked hard on and plan to continue. Please review that story as well; it would be my late Christmas miracle. Thank you and keep reading.


	3. Christmas Carnage

Author's note: I think I may cut this story off and give up since Christmas is so far gone, this might be the last chapter unless reviews indicate readers want otherwise, too bad, I was really enjoying writing it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear or anything affiliated with it. I do not own nor have I received permission from any of the mentioned stores or products in this story. I have not received permission from George Lucas or any other Star Wars affiliates either, and I do not believe that their movies melt the brains of those watching and motivate them to antisocial behavior (such as dressing up as a Jedi and attacking a group of heavily armed mercenaries with a plastic lightsaber), so don't sue me.

Chapter 3: Christmas Carnage

Scott's head jerked upward from his Newtype magazine at the sound of the guns going off. Suncoast was right next to the food court, a fact that Scott liked to take advantage of on a regular basis by sneaking off when customers were scarce to snag a few bourbon chicken samples. A sea of screaming people, some still carrying bagged gifts, rushed past Suncoast's doors and farther into the mall.

_Whoa, it's kinda like that one part in Akira when… no, wait, stay focused. This is real Scott, you have to use your head and act like a real person. Now, what would Obi-wan do…_

RRR

Snake edged along the wall and peaked into the food court. Bullets ripped across the colorful plastic and overly-priced food items, shredding all into colorful confetti and carpeting the floor with bullet casings. He pulled his head back around and made sure the SOCOM was armed and the safety was off.

_All right boys, let's dance._

EEE

Scott was prepared for battle, his official Jedi Knight uniform draped over his Suncoast garbs and flowing as he posed dramatically. He retrieved his weapon, a plastic blue lightsaber with realistic humming sound effects and a glowing bulb in the handle for cutting through enemy's necks like butter. He wielded it with grace and precision, striking and jabbing in the air, adding spittle-spray sound effects with each blow.

VVV

Keef was out of the food court and running.

_It's gonna cost a goddamn fortune to repair that, well, Vince, and least you'll get yours._

He turned into the Suncoast and spotted a portly young man swinging a glowing sword and making strange swooshing noises.

"What the hell are you doing?" Keef asked, ducking out of sight from the mercs in the food court.

"I am preparing for battle! The evil forthes will feel the thting of my blade! Shwoooooomm shwoooom!" Scott replied, twirling the saber with a surprising amount of skill and peppering Keef's sunglasses with droplets of spittle.

"Stop! Stop! Ok, kiddo, there's some forces of evil out in the food court, why don't you take care of them for me?"

"Yeth! May the forth be with me!" Scott yelled dramatically and charged out of the store with the glowing saber poised for action.

III

Snake ran silently, his footfalls light but strong into the food court and flipped over the Asian Wok stand counter.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" one of the cowering workers asked.

"Shut up, I'm trying to save you," Snake said, peeking past the cash register to watch the mercs. They had stopped firing and were moving through the food court.

_What are they looking for?_ Snake wondered.

EEE

Hugh whipped out his cell phone far from the fight by the "Visit Santa Claus" area.

"Hello?" Percible answered

"Percible, I need you to…"

"My codename is Dark Leviathan, call me that."

"What? Hell no."

"Then I'm raising my price."

"Oh shove it up your ass Perci…"

"What?"

"….. Dark Leviathan."

"Ok, what was it you needed sir?"

"I want to see Keef's bullet-riddled corpse, got it? I want absolute proof he's dead."

"Right, bullet-riddled corpse."

"All right, keep me informed Pe-…. _Dark Leviathan._"

"Will do, sir."

WWW

"Dark Leviathan???" Melvin asked angrily.

"Yup," Percible replied with pride.

"Ok, well I'm Emerald Phoenix!"

"No!"

"Yes!

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Uh… sirs?" one of the mercs said, "I don't want to interrupt anything, but Keef's not here."

"Oh shit," Emerald Phoenix and Dark Leviathan said in unison.

TTT

Bethany waited, edging along the ground toward the window, prepared to jump through the jagged shards of glass that remained and make a break for the parking lot.

_Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm…_ she thought, she'd have to go see Dr. Kevin right away to get some more meds. She slithered closer, her generous breasts soaking up coke and blood as she crawled past a few destroyed shoppers and their lunches.

_A few more feet… ouch!_ Her arm had cut on a fragment of shattered glass. She could feel her pulse quickening, and her vision began to redden.

_Stay calm, STAY calm, STAY CALM… _she thought, but a yell from across the food court drew her attention away from the impending rampage.

"Die Sith scum!! Shweoooowww!"

HHH

Scott felt the rush of power flow through him as he leapt toward the evildoers who stared at him in what was obviously awed terror.

"Feel the thting of my ithy thteel… or lather thtuff… or glowing thaber of death!!" Scott said, posing and twirling the toy, "Shwang shwooo shwow shwaaaaaaa…"

"What the hell?" one of the camouflaged storm troopers said. Scott charged forward and jabbed with full force, the saber puncturing the man's chest and giving off a speaker-distorted burning noise just like in the movies.

"Ow! All right kid, you're nerd jerky!" the man said, slapping aside the lightsaber which had retracted back into the handle and lifting his mp5 to Scott's face.

III

_Dammit__ Scott…_ Snake thought, watching as the boy jabbed at the merc with his plastic lightsaber. He stood from his position behind the counter and squeezed off two rounds with the SOCOM. One of the mercs near Scott screamed and stumbled bleeding into a table as the one with the gun pointed at Scott turned to find the source of the attack. Snake fired again, the bullet thudding into the leg of one of the mercs, sending him falling into a heap as the empty casing rang against the counter of the Asian Wok. The merc who had previously had Scott began to spray rounds at Snake. Snake dived back under the counter as he was showered with fragments of plastic, glass, and sweet and sour pork.

SSS

Bethany was almost to the window, the gunshots and yells reverberating throughout the obliterated food court pushing her heartbeat faster.

_Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm… Must kill mimes! No, stay calm, stay calm._

She was at the window before she noticed the blue and red beams of light gliding past the opening. She stood, glass crunching under her weight catching the attention of the several police officers waiting outside, forming a blockade around the entire mall. It was at that exact moment that Bethany remembered she had exited the mental hospital in a slightly less than legal way, and it would be better to go back into the mall.

…

Hugh was at Dillards when he saw the wall of police cars outside.

_ Oh shit._ He thought, retreating back inside. He reached into his leather jacket and drew a .44 magnum, ready for an ambush if he was spotted. He decided to bunker in next to the mannequins and think of a plan.

_All right Hugh, think of something, anything. Thirty mercs, not nearly enough, there's gotta be about two hundred cops out there. Ah, Jesus Christ I'm fucked. Hmm, better check on the stash, good thing Vince gave me the code number._

Author's note: Have you ever heard of subliminal advertising? It's when the creator of a commercial or writer of a fanfic slips in little secret messages to the customer or oblivious fanfic reader that go directly to their brain and they can't resist but to obey!! Amazing idn't it? Of course, I would never try anything like that, no, never. Now don't you have something you really _really_want to do for this story? Don't ya?


End file.
